


Who Moved My Lunch?

by queenfanfiction



Series: fakenews_fanfic open thread fills [10]
Category: Fake News FPF
Genre: FNFF OT, Gen, comment!fic, prompt!fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-10-21
Updated: 2010-10-21
Packaged: 2017-10-12 19:28:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 328
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/128267
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/queenfanfiction/pseuds/queenfanfiction
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Why did meeting for lunch with Stephen always give Jon a migraine?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Who Moved My Lunch?

**Author's Note:**

  * Translation into Русский available: [Кто взял мой ланч?](https://archiveofourown.org/works/2279889) by [Rainy_Elliot](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rainy_Elliot/pseuds/Rainy_Elliot)



> Written for the OpenThread at LJ's fakenews_fanfic. The prompt was from a random generator: "The story must have an eagle in it. During the story, a character loses something."

"JON," says Stephen from the supply closet adjacent to his office, his voice slightly muffled but nevertheless loud. "SOMEONE'S STOLEN MY LUNCH."

Jon sighs and rubs his temples. Why did meeting for lunch with Stephen always give him a migraine? "Are you sure?"

"OF COURSE I'M SURE. I PUT MY TUNA-FISH-AND-GRILLED-CHICKEN-FILET-WITH-EXTRA-MAYO-SPECTACULAR RIGHT IN THIS CLOSET AND IT'S GONE."

"Well, no one's been here for at least half-an-hour, since that's how long you've been here with me looking for it!" Jon snaps, getting annoyed now. "Look, I'm sure we can order you another one—"

"OH MY LORD, IT GETS WORSE," Stephen announces. "MY GOLDFISH ARE GONE TOO."

"Your what now?"

"MY GOLDFISH. THE ONES I KEEP IN MY SUPPLY CLOSET. THEY'RE ALL GONE. ALL FIVE OF THEM."

"...why do you keep them in your closet, Stephen?"

"BECAUSE STEVE ALWAYS USED TO SAY THAT GUYS WHO KEPT GOLDFISH IN THEIR FRONT OFFICE WERE CLEARLY GAY, BUT IT'S NOT AS BAD WHEN THEY KEPT THE FISH IN THE CLOSET."

Jon isn't sure what to say to that, so he keeps his mouth shut and instead concentrates on trying not to let his stomach growl audibly.

"Mr. Stephen!" Bobby sticks his head through the doorway. "Mr. Steph—oh, hallo, Mr. Stewart. Is Mr. Stephen here?"

"He's in his closet, playing hide-and-seek with his lunch," Jon says drily. "Can I take a message?"

"Oh! Well, it's just that I'm normally supposed to feed Stephen Jr. right around now, but he's not in his cage. Did Mr. Stephen take him out for a walk or something?"

Jon is about to reply when something flutters just outside Stephen's half-open window. He and Bobby turn as one, freeze, and stare at the eagle outside. Stephen Jr. stares right back at them, with several fishtails dangling carelessly from its beak.

"Uh, Stephen?" Jon says slowly. "I think I've found your goldfish. And possibly your lunch, but I have a feeling you don't want either of them back..."


End file.
